have i told you lately that my back hurts?

one more day.

one more day.

one more day.one more day.

I can’t seem to find the energy to write much more than these three beautiful words: one more day. It feels so surreal… that tomorrow is my last day and that on Sunday the ferry comes to take me away. I’ve been living on an island for six months? I’ve been farming fulltime for an entire growing season?  Living in a cabin with no insulation, peeing in garbanzo bean cans when I’m too lazy to walk to the bathroom in the night? (tmi?)

After work tomorrow the packing frenzy begins, and then the cleaning frenzy… and then… I don’t care what happens! I’d love to take a bath. And clean my fingernails, and maybe shave my armpits if I can muster up the energy and courage. A three hour massage would be nice. I can’t wait to reunite with the outside world, to spend time with my friends in NYC, and then to fly home and reunite with CA friends and famfam and my precious sister. I can’t wait to wander the aisles of a food co-op. mmm, food co-ops. I love them.

Ooh, I’m so tired. Everything is tired…my fingernails are tired. And it is bed time. It kind of feels like Christmas Eve…except that instead of presents, tomorrow morning I get to do more weeding.

one more day.


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